Our story starts with a hero and villain. A clear “bad guy” and a shining, beautiful “good guy”because that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? Doesn’t that ring a bell? No seriously, because I am asking for genuine answers here. If the balance of good and bad doesn’t seem familiar to you, it should, because it's how every fairytale, fable, and story is; you could argue that the separation between good and bad is at the very foundation of our existence. So then why is it so hard for me to stay in my lane as the villain?

Pale skin. Dark black hair. A blood red cape to cloak myself. I dress too much like a vampire to be the good guy, so I should be able to get it through my thick skull that I am meant to be an antagonist just by looking down at my clothes of choice. I understand the idea of evil more than the idea of goodness, but why is it so hard to hate her?

Sunny skin. Peach lips. Brown hair with streaks of sun, braided down her back. A flowing, white dress with gold reflections. In fact, she has a glow herself, her skin shimmering in the light. When someone has the power of good fortune and luck like she does, everywhere she steps is golden. Our essences as people lie at two ends of a spectrum, a spectrum that forces us apart.

We do have one aspect in common, however: blue eyes. I could just leave it at that, continuing to be happy over the fact that we aren't polar opposites, but the difference is too obvious to ignore. Mine are cold, icy and force people to do what I say while hers are a deep, dark blue, like the midnight sky twinkling with stars. I’ve only managed to catch them in person once, but it was the biggest mistake of my life. It was the day we first fought in battle.

It started after a day full of anger and hate, more so than usual. The city was building over the park I walked to everyday just to find some sort of peace among the cherry blossoms that tickle your face as they make their descent towards the soft ground. After I had done something stupid yet again, looking up to see a dirt ground laiden with construction equipment shattered every piece of well being that I had left. So, instead of hiding my havoc, I thought, why not create it? Make them suffer like they’ve always made me.

Soon enough, buildings were wearing down with roaring flames, people were running like squirming bugs in the street. I stood in the middle of chaos and felt strangely serene. I never knew I had this much power. That’s when she showed up and everything went downhill from there. I guess I finally had expressed enough villainy to attract a hero. What I didn’t realize is for the next 5 years, I would be beating myself up over what my evil behavior started on this fateful day.

So, I stood in the center of the city, eyes closed when I began to hear that the screams were drifting into silence. Confused, I opened my eyes to see her calmly making her way towards me. It seemed to be in slow motion how she almost drifted over to me, each of her steps hitting the pavement at the slightest and producing a golden sheen. All of the citizens gaped in awe, too stunned to be frightened. She just stared at me. Smiled, even. I was too entranced by her goddess-like movement to peak at her eyes, and  even though I couldn’t think straight, I knew I never wanted to hurt her. 

“You’re not like this. You’re hurt. You aren’t thinking, you’re just feeling,” her voice drifted outward, like honey spilling slowly over my ears. It felt like I was dreaming. I didn't even realize she was a few feet away from me, but I hung my head towards the ground anyway, like a child being reprimanded. My shame, however, protected her from my eyes, for the closer people get, the more dangerous they can become. The last thing I would want to be is a danger

“You are different from this. You are better than this. I may not know you, but I can tell you are just like me, and you don't want to do this.” At that she took my hand and my heart started to race. She probably said that to everyone causing problems, but the fact that she seemed to be looking right into me made my brain turn to mush. 

“Hey, look at me,” With my brain being the incompetent puddy it was, it forgot about the sole reason I belong on the bad side of history. Before I could stop myself, my eyes met hers and it was like I was hurled into a deep night sky that her dark blue irises constructed, fireworks going off all around me. I was dizzy, confused, and almost literally head over heels. In the midst of my falling, I failed to remember that the power in my eyes doesn't just comply to a specific command, they can pull any feeling, any thought and bring it through to the real world. Somehow, while my physical body stood before her, completely numb, my controlling eyes focused on one particular wish in the middle of my brain tornado:

I wish she didn’t have such pretty eyes

 To be fair, if she didn’t have those stunning eyes, I wouldn’t be having such issues. Although, my powers could have capitalized on something much less dangerous, like I wish she would kiss me and marry me and move to a cute little cottage with me, but no. My power always chooses the worst, because I am supposed to be the worst part of every scenario.

I was awoken  from my mesmerized state as I noticed her hand rising slowly along her face to claw at her own eyes, in a trance inflicted by my powers. In a frantic impulse, I latched onto her hand to stop her, but I was fighting my own force. I managed to pull her hand away from her eyes, but that didn’t stop her nails from digging into her right cheek, drawing blood. Through all the panic, the magic of my retinas must have picked up on the fact that I wish she wasn’t, you know, scratching at her face like a raccoon, so it stopped almost as suddenly as it started. That didn’t change the fact that what I made her do to her face left a scar, and I’ve felt awful about it from the moment I sprinted away from her to this day.

Now, we “fight” in a manner that allows me to avoid her. I cause panic in the city, she cleans it up. Sure, I’m letting her win whatever tale we exist in, but it's a coping mechanism. I get my anger out, leave, and then calm down by  watching her giving her victory speech on TV, admiring her eyes from a distance.

I don’t want to risk it. I’m sure you are thinking that I could just save her again if anything bad happened. However, what I’ve realized is that I didn’t really save her. Her luck saved her, that’s her whole hero shtick. She has the gift of good luck and can just make things right in the world. The one person who is supposed to be her match in battle falling in love with her is just her stupid power that I fall merciless to. My feelings for her are merely a twisted fabrication of the universe, designed to protect her because she is too good for this world. 

Still have your doubts? She was lucky when I “saved” her from going blind. She’s lucky that most of my frustration stems from not being able to get to her, solidifying the fact that I will be the “evil one” that causes issues and makes her look good because she saves the day. She’s lucky I even exist, which makes me just a pawn in her chess game that she uses to advance, and my insane crush on her just makes me ever the more useful. The thing is, the pawn means nothing to the king or the queen, they’re just stepping stones to help them get across the river. I’m made to be walked all over by her, and yet, I still support her, never letting even a toe on her foot get wet in the ferocious river.

Most of the villains in stories have a curse, or some sort of backstory that plagues them and causes them to be evil. My curse happens to be that I can never stop loving the person I am supposed to hate and she will never, ever love me back.